


i got so fucking romantic (i apologize, lemme light your cigarette)

by iridescent_blue



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: M/M, Post-Canon, Social Media, by like ten years, completely self indulgent, except not really because i hAte twitter, fifteen pages of exposition for three pages of what actually inspired this fic, ft. two strange cats and a pr agent who deserves a raise, hes also fucking WHIPPED for andrew, i project my love for andrew minyard for seven thousand words, neil cant use proper grammar when texting surprise surprise, neil is a twitter tyrant, neil takes a lot of pictures, no beta we die like men, no problem because andrew is JUST AS WHIPPED, only one (1) dig at how glad i am that riko is dead, several hundred words devoted to lovingly roasting the shit out of kevin day, the foxes? having distinct texting styles? in my fic? its more likely than u think
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-26
Updated: 2020-06-29
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:55:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24924226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iridescent_blue/pseuds/iridescent_blue
Summary: For once, the stupid idea isn't Neil's fault.Featuring a PR agent in need of a raise, two strange cats, and a whole lot of Twitter.Really, it's a recipe for disaster (or pizza, if Andrew's the one making dinner).
Relationships: Neil Josten/Andrew Minyard
Comments: 90
Kudos: 722





	1. I will be your rock, God, when you're rolling the dice

**Author's Note:**

> hi this is a completely self indulgent social media au that i had while romanticizing every aspect of my boring as hell life
> 
> anyway first fic after 105 days in quarantine hopefully more to come. its 1:55 AM im dead inside lmao
> 
> *throws* aight here's my gay ass yearning for a future
> 
> all titles from Cute Thing by Car Seat Headrest (which absolutely fucking BANGS go love on will toledo please and thank u)

For once, the stupid idea isn’t Neil’s fault. It’s his agent’s. His poor PR agent who doesn’t have to bear witness to Neil’s texts at three in the morning or his grammatically horrific roasts of Kevin in the Foxes’ group chat. No, poor Hannah doesn’t know that. One day, she sends Neil the logins to an Instagram and Twitter account, telling him to “connect with your fans, talk about Exy, keep the Minyard-Josten rivalry alive!”

Ah, yes. The Minyard-Josten rivalry, consisting of Andrew saying he hates Neil in interviews and Neil confirming it. It’s not a lie. Andrew admitted, on top of Fox Tower a week before his graduation, that he hated how vulnerable Neil made him feel. It was scary for him. So when Andrew says he hates Neil, he means that he hates the fact that for three years, they lived in different time zones. He hates that Neil makes him weak in the knees just by laughing. He hates that they make each other actively try to get better when rotting away in their own destructive tendencies is so much easier. 

Their rivalry exists on-court, too, when their teams get to play. Andrew locks down the goal and Neil  _ laughs _ when he misses, a polar opposite to his normal teeth-grinding frustration. They catcall each other in Russian and if it leads to absolutely mind-blowing post-game makeouts, no one needs to know. 

That’s why letting Neil get Twitter is such a horrible idea. He gets the text from Hannah on a Monday morning when he turns his phone back on after flying back to Chicago from Denver (he played Andrew on Friday and they spent the weekend doing absolutely nothing, wrapped up in each other, making up for lost time). Immediately, he texts Andrew. 

_ landed safe n my pr person texted me saying i have to use twitter and instagram now _

**Do you even have those downloaded**

_ nah but i have accounts now _

_ can i just not use instagram i dont like taking pictures of myself _

**You don’t have to post your face, idiot.**

_ o yeh _

_ how the fuck do i use twitter _

_ nvm got it _

Neil, in fact, has not “got it.” The first few weeks of him using Twitter and Instagram are uneventful. He just retweets stuff about the Cyclones’ upcoming games and other interesting things about Exy. He follows his current teammates and the Foxes from his freshman year at PSU, and that’s it. He’s sat through enough lectures from Wymack and mandatory press training to know that no one will be happy with him “letting loose” on Twitter. Then, Andrew mentions Neil in a tweet. 

It’s not like Neil is doing anything that night, his only plans were to make dinner and watch Andrew’s game. He’s playing against Kevin and the rest of the Houston Sirens, and a few hours before the first serve, his phone pings.

**Check your twitter.**

**Andrew** @minyard

@njos10 1-5. Pick.

Neil smiles. His night is about to be a lot more fun. 

**Neil Josten** @njos10

@minyard 3 :). have fun @queenkevinday

Closing Twitter, Neil switches over to his group chat with the Foxes. 

**angy idiot neil:** i have an idea

**mattyb:** neil. my man. my dude. i have never been more intrigued in my LIFE

**damn daniel(le):** either this is going to be the funniest shit i’ve ever heard or i am going to need to call 911 

**mister doctor aaron:** youre still capable of coherent thought 

**grand high bitch herself:** shut up midget neil what’s your grand plan

**angy idiot neil:** concept i live tweet kevin and andrews game 

**angy idiot neil:** just making fun of kev the whole time 

**angy idiot neil:** anyone wanna join me 

**mattyb:** fucking YES

**grand high bitch herself:** uh dUH when have i ever passed on an opportunity to make kevin look like a fool

**kev:** Neil. 

**angy idiot neil:** yep thats my name glad u kno how to read

**kev:** First of all, you’re only letting me score three times on Andrew tonight?

**angy idiot neil:** im a simple man kev i just want some entertainment

**mister doctor aaron:** oh so thats what those weird tweets were about

**mattyb:** yo tHATS what those tweets were about holy shit

**kev:** Secondly, you’re only watching the game to make fun of me?

**angy idiot neil:** nah im watching it to get to see andrew kick ur ass bitchboy

**damn daniel(le):** neil watch your language you’re a baby

**angy idiot neil:** dan im 25 i can say fuck

**Andrew:** So you’re watching for me, Josten?

**angy idiot neil:** are you going to be mad if i say yes

**Andrew:** I hate you. 

**angy idiot neil:** yeh yeh i know :)

**kev:** Andrew why are you on your phone? You’re supposed to be warming up

**kev:** Anyway, Neil, you shouldn’t use your platform for childish things like that. Be constructive. 

**angy idiot neil:** alright fine your highness ill give u constructive criticism like a good mature adult 

**kev** : Thank you. 

Neil mutes his phone’s notifications (the group chat is going to be absolutely unbearable joking about Kevin and as much as Neil would like to join in, he also needs to make dinner) and opens up his recipe bookmarks, looking for something good that will pull his focus away from Exy and missing Andrew for a while. He settles on spicy pork noodles, something he’s been wanting to try out for ages. Not even the monotonous slicing of ginger and garlic can distract him from the void in his chest that only really feels filled when he’s with Andrew.

Once the sauce is simmering on the stove and an alarm is set so it won’t burn (Andrew made him promise not to set off the smoke detectors), he settles onto the couch, opening Twitter once again. He’s unsurprised that the Foxes have been mentioning him in tweets, talking about a “watch-along party” for Andrew and Kevin’s game. He spares himself the trouble of replying to them individually, mentioning all of them at once.

**Neil Josten** @njos10

@damnwilds @thereynolds @hemnick @yaboyd you all have it wrong it’s not a “watch-along” party it’s a “let’s insult kevin’s every move” party. join the clown on kevin movement, cowards

Neil can’t type out another witty reply because just as he hits the “send tweet” button, King comes barreling into the living room, meowing as she jumps onto Neil’s chest to headbutt his chin, knocking his phone out of his hands in the process. If this weren’t her normal way of telling him that she was hungry, he’d be a bit pissed. As it stands, King is freakishly good at reading clocks and Neil is incredibly good at losing track of time. 

Rolling over the back of the couch, Neil pads into the kitchen, puts a pot of water on to boil for his noodles, and sets about feeding King. The little menace keeps meowing and licking at his ankles as he gets her food ready, batting at his idly tapping foot. She’s feisty, and Neil loves it. When he was at the shelter with Andrew, he was drawn to her prickly nature, hissing at anyone who came too close, but warily approaching Neil when he sat near her and let her come to him. They had only gone to the shelter wanting one cat, but ended up getting two. Sir is with Andrew out in Denver, busy being a lazy fluffball on top of some squishy armchair and apparently getting on Andrew’s last nerve (but Neil can tell from the warmth in Andrew’s voice that Sir helps the apartment feel less empty, makes loneliness less stifling. King helps Neil in that regard too). 

King is a weird cat. She likes to watch TV, specifically Exy (Neil was delighted to find this out) but not reality TV, and she can read analog clocks with alarming accuracy, leading to her clockwork demand for dinner. Her regularity is cute to Neil on good days, an anchor on bad days where time slips through his fingers like water. 

While King eats, Neil boils his noodles and mixes them into the sauce. He would pass the recipe along to Andrew to test out and get a second opinion on, but Andrew’s tolerance for spice is that of a third-grader’s, so Neil will spare him this time. He fills up a bowl, grabs a fork, his water bottle, and King, and makes his way back over to the couch. He stretches out along the length of the couch, legs not even dangling over the edge (for once, being short has its perks), turns on the TV, flipping channels until he finds the game. King settles on his thighs, tail tucked under her nose and her eyes fixed on the screen. The words of his agent echo in his head.  _ Connect with your fans. Keep the Minyard-Josten rivalry alive. _ Before he can talk himself out of it, he snaps a picture, getting his noodles, King, and the TV in the shot.

**Neil Josten** @njos10

essentials to roasting the shit out of @queenkevinday: spicy pork noodles, cat, comfy couch. 30 mins to serve never felt so long :)

Everyone’s going to interpret Neil’s “thirty minutes to serve” comment like he can’t wait to start ragging on Kevin (which is absolutely true), but Neil really said it for Andrew. It’s been almost two months since they last saw each other and this week has been too busy for them to have time for a Skype call that they adamantly refuse isn’t a date (even though they cook the same meal and eat it while talking). Neil misses Andrew like a lung, so being able to see him, even through a screen where none of his attention is focused on Neil is still a nice thing to have. Especially when Andrew has made a public declaration to shut Kevin out.

The best part of it all is that the only people who are going to be able to make fun of Kevin are the former Foxes. Everyone else watching the game will be so caught up in Kevin’s admittedly incredible performance to notice his slip-ups, especially when he goes up against Andrew. It’s the little things that show Kevin getting irrationally angry at Andrew, like how he starts to overextend his stride running up the court or how he pivots too slowly, losing valuable momentum. Teasing him in the moment will only lead to a Skype call later where Kevin will rant for ten minutes about the importance of good publicity until Neil reminds him that he is Neil “PR Nightmare” Josten, and only then will Kevin start to calm down. 

The pre-game interviews are still going and since Andrew never does one and Kevin always goes last, Neil opens his mentions, looking for pissed-off Kevin fans. It’s always fun to put them in their place. He scrolls through the generic insults and tweets supporting his teasing of the Queen of Exy until he finds a good one. 

**ash** @exxysexxy

@njos10 what?? even is there to critique?? about the queen himself????? youre just jealous because youll never be him smh hes perfect

Neil snorts. Kevin is far from perfect. In college he was an anxiety-ridden alcoholic, and now he just has anxiety and is even more stuck up than he was when Neil first met him. He can’t resist typing out a response, choosing his words with only a little care (after all, he’s not going to try to drag Kevin’s image into the gutter).

**Neil Josten** @njos10

oh boy, oh man, do i have something to tell u. kevin is nowhere near perfect one time in college he was so drunk that he thought andrew and aaron were the same person and cried when i told him they werent i have seen this man at his lowest low you dont even want to know how much there is to critique

Right as he tweets that, a familiar voice coming from the TV makes him glance up. Kevin’s on the screen, talking about his chances for the game, looking like the picture-perfect son of Exy he was born to be. His media smile is on and it makes Neil want to gag, just a little bit. He opens up the camera and starts recording a video, speaking just loud enough to cover up whatever Kevin’s saying.

“Blah blah blah,” he murmurs, “I’m Kevin Day and I’m telling you that I’m going to win this match even though I’ve only ever scored on Andrew Minyard sixteen times in four years.” Neil pans the camera away from the TV and onto King, who perked up at the sound of Neil’s voice. “King, what are your thoughts on the utter bullshit Kevin’s spewing?” King tilts her head towards Neil and lets out a soft meow. “Hell yeah, King. Andrew’s so much better than him anyway.” King meows again and Neil stops the video, tweeting it with absolutely zero context. Nicky tweets back at him within thirty seconds.

**nicky ;)** @hemnick

@njos10 king rlly is ur daughter she has the same resting bitchface as u :’) im such a proud uncle

Neil just smiles and picks up his noodles, waiting for the clock to count down. He might be making fun of Kevin on Twitter tonight, but any game where Kevin and Andrew play each other has him on the edge of his seat. At Palmetto, Andrew was already objectively incredible, and now watching him play is a religious experience for Neil. It’s an added bonus that he puts in more effort when he’s up against Kevin.

The game starts fast and clean, as all Sirens versus Rapids games go. Neither team avoids bodychecks, but Andrew and Kevin signed with them for their focus on skill over brute force. Two minutes in, Kevin gets around the Rapids’ defense with some over-the-top footwork and sends a shot hurtling towards the goal. Lightning-fast, Andrew blocks it and sends it right past Kevin’s shoulder to his mark, who turns and hurls it down the court. Kevin loses a valuable half-second flipping the bird at Andrew, and then he turns and runs up the court. 

That first save sets a precedent for the game. While the Rapids’ offense has the Sirens occupied in a pretty epic back-and-forth, Neil’s attention is diverted back to the Rapids’ goal, where Andrew stands alone. He’s shifting back and forth on his feet, something he only does when he’s bored. The camera cuts away from him to cover the scrabble for the ball, and Neil opens up his camera, waiting for Andrew to come back onscreen. When he does, Neil starts recording.

The clip is no more than a few seconds, but it’s enough. Neil opens up Twitter and starts typing, his attention split between his phone and the game.

**Neil Josten** @njos10

@minyard the world’s most dispassionate cha cha slide, everybody

*Attached video*

Andrew is so going to kill him for this one. Worth it. 

Finally, one of the Rapids’ strikers steps around the defense and fires a shot so fast that the Sirens’ goalie can only watch it slam into the wall to her left. The court resets, and the dealer passes backward, giving Kevin time to get down the court before she gets the ball again and slams it in Kevin’s direction. In a move that Neil is  _ definitely _ going to learn, Kevin jumps, spins, catches the ball and is firing at Andrew as soon as his toes hit the court floor. It’s an impressive trick, but it sacrifices accuracy and speed for showiness. Andrew, practical and petty as ever, catches it and sends it glancing off the top of Kevin’s helmet, changing the angle just so to let it land straight in his dealer’s net. It’s a risky move that would have gotten Andrew carded if he was any less accurate, but he’s  _ Andrew. _ Neil focuses on his phone anyway.

**Neil Josten** @njos10

holy fucking shit you almost fucking killed him dude

No context required. Anyone watching the game should know what Neil’s talking about. 

By halftime, the Rapids are up by five points and Andrew has completely locked down the goal for the entire half. As the teams file off, Kevin pulls Andrew aside and starts yelling at him. Let it be known that even with Exy stars, old habits die hard. Andrew opens his mouth, saying something to rile Kevin up even more, and Neil gets a lovely picture of Kevin flipping Andrew off while Andrew looks perfectly indifferent behind the grate of his helmet, his eyes alight with amusement. 

It would be a shame to not share this picture, so Neil hits fuck it and resigns himself to a week of angry mentions from obsessive fans of Kevin.

**Neil Josten** @njos10

everyone, i present to you the queen of exy, kevin day. all fuckin hail or whatever

Halftime is filled with commercials, so Neil turns to his mentions to see what the other Foxes have been saying. There are roughly a million tweets from Nicky, all key smashes with random pictures used as reactions. There are truly a few spectacular ones, like an English bull terrier that’s wearing hoop earrings (Neil accepted long ago that he’s just never going to understand memes), but the rest of his mentions are just Allison playing off his bitchy comments and Dan cheering him on. There’s even a tweet from Aaron, under Neil’s tweet about Andrew doing the cha-cha slide.

**Aaron Minyard** @drminyard

y are u booing him? hes right

Seven years ago, Neil would have been shocked to see Aaron agree with him on anything, but the twins’ weekly therapy sessions, along with Katelyn’s fierce desire to befriend Neil wore him and Aaron down to the point where they could fall into a rhythm consisting mainly of teasing Andrew. So now they occasionally got along.

Shortly before halftime ends, Neil’s phone pings with a text from Andrew. 

**368%, junkie.**

_ u love me :) _

**Unfortunately.**

The second half starts with both Kevin and Andrew on the bench, though Andrew is the only one sitting. Kevin is up and pacing, bracing his hands on the plexiglass, and at one point he starts bouncing on the balls of his feet. Neil can’t fucking resist.

**Neil Josten** @njos10

*Attached video* @queenkevinday 80s zumba instructor lookin ass

God, his PR agent made a mistake. Whatever, he’s too good for them to actually kick him off the team, and it’s no secret that this is all in good fun. 

Andrew and Kevin end up on the court again for the last quarter, and Andrew once again locks down the goal, giving Kevin a sarcastic little wave every time he’s denied points. 

The Rapids end up winning by two points (the gap closed considerably while Andrew was on the sidelines), and Neil sticks around for the post-game coverage and interview. Andrew glares at the camera like he’s going to stab it every time it focuses on him, and Neil takes plenty of pictures. Finally, an interviewer has the balls to ask Andrew a question.

“So, Andrew, your former teammate Neil Josten has been posting on Twitter all night about your game, with a lot of tweets targeted at you. What are your thoughts on that? Anything to say to your rival?”

Oh boy. If Neil is a press nightmare, Andrew can only be described as a terror. 

“I hate him,” Andrew says, shaking his head. “He’s a junkie who never knows when to quit. Neil,” he pauses, looks straight at the camera, “go fuck yourself.” 

Low fucking blow. Neil shoots off a text to Andrew before compiling his best shots of Andrew glaring at the camera (something he did exclusively to make the cameramen uncomfortable).

_ ‘go fuck yourself’ if u got here sooner u could do it for me _

A minute later, on-screen, Andrew pulls out his phone and reads Neil’s text. Oops. His eyes widen infinitesimally and he puts his phone back in his pocket without responding. 

No one asks Andrew any more questions, and with that, the Rapids’ fall season comes to a close. Neil has one more home game until his season is over, but Andrew is coming up to Chicago to stay with Neil for their two months of off-season, and the press doesn’t know it yet, but he’s negotiating to be traded to Chicago for the next fall season (a decision he insists Neil has no influence on, one of his only lies he’s ever told Neil). 

-_-

A month later, Neil’s on his way home from the store. The L rattles around him, his bags tucked between his feet, when his phone buzzes. A text from Andrew. 

**I want to come out over Twitter. Yes or no.**

They’ve discussed it, obviously. Multiple times. It’s never been about them wanting people to know about their relationship, it’s just that they’re both so  _ tired _ of fielding questions about non-existent girlfriends and having to stay silent when some thirteen-year-old girl squeals about how cute Neil and Kevin would be together. So it’s not a surprise that Neil receives this text. Really, it’s a miracle that no one’s noticed the fact that Andrew’s been in Chicago for over a month now.

Neil lost any semblance of shame once Riko got his brains blasted out, so he just smiles and taps out a response.

_ yes drew _

A text comes through a moment later, a screenshot of a draft of a tweet. It’s perfect. Neil may be an “instigative little shit,” according to Wymack, but Andrew does nothing but enable him. He sends back a thumbs-up emoji and braces for his mentions to become overrun.

**Andrew** @minyard

Everyone spam @njos10 to make him walk home faster. The cats are hungry and screaming and no amount of money could get me to move from under this blanket.

And just like that, they’re out.

Neil counts out five minutes, waiting for people to put two-and-two together, and then he tweets back at Andrew.

**Neil Josten** @njos10

@minyard take it up with the cta u goth midget ill b home soon

True to his word, Neil gets home around ten minutes later. Sir and King wind around his feet as he shucks off his coat and stomps the snow off of his boots, crying like they haven’t been fed since the turn of the century (it’s only twenty minutes past the time they normally get fed. Spoiled brats). He feeds them and the cries cease, then unpacks his groceries and goes to join Andrew on the couch. He is wrapped up in a blanket, but he loosens it for Neil to slot in at his side, squirming when Neil presses his cold nose against Andrew’s warm neck. 

“Hi,” Neil murmurs, pressing a soft kiss against the base of Andrew’s throat, eliciting a soft hum in response. He stays like that for a moment, breathing Andrew in, until Andrew taps his neck and he tilts his head up, meeting Andrew with a languid kiss that leaves Neil warm. It’s a good day for Andrew, so his kisses are soft and honey-sweet, a rare form of affection that’s become increasingly more common in the past few years. 

They sit in comfortable silence, occasionally kissing softly until Neil’s phone buzzes three times in rapid succession. Nicky is damn near incoherent in his texts, and Neil remembers that people are probably still flooding his twitter yelling at him to walk faster. It gives him an idea. 

“Can I post a picture of us on Twitter?” Neil asks, and Andrew cocks his head to the side, considering it. “You know, as proof that I made it home and people can stop yelling at me.”

Andrew nods before whistling two short notes and pointing at his lap. Sir comes bounding over and settles in Andrew’s lap, leaning against his chest as Andrew’s hands stroke through his fur. It’s a testament to Andrew’s patience that he has Sir trained to sit anywhere he points to.

Neil opens his camera and lines up the shot. The lights make everything fuzzy at the edges and Andrew looks so beautifully  _ human. _ He’s wearing his glasses and one of Neil’s sweatshirts, the soft lilac bringing out the warmth in his cheeks. Neil leans his head against his shoulder and adjusts the framing to include Andrew’s hands buried in Sir’s fur and takes the picture as Andrew rolls his eyes, one cheek dimpling the slightest bit in the closest Andrew comes to a smile when the lights are on. 

It’s a beautiful picture and it’s such a stark contrast to all the other pictures where Andrew looks dangerous, an unknown variable with no pattern. Here, once the facade is stripped away, Andrew just looks like a man who’s tired of his partner’s antics and just wants to pet his cat. 

**Neil Josten** @njos10

*Attached image* yall can stop yelling at me now im home and the cats got their dinner

Immediately, both their phones go off. Neil catches a glimpse of Betsy’s contact on Andrew’s phone and he turns to Twitter, responding to his foxes.

**nicky ;)** @hemnick

@njos10 nEIL HOLY FUCK OH MY GOD IM SO PROUD OF U AAAAH

**Neil Josten** @njos10

@hemnick thanks man say hi to erik for me

**dan** @damnwilds

@njos10 congrats on comin out dude but couldnt u have waited a few months u just made allison like 300 bucks

**Neil Josten** @njos10

@damnwilds ur loss i guess

**Alli** @thereynolds

@njos10 @damnwilds no danielle i made 500 because aaron bet against his own brother like a fool

**matty** @yaboyd

@njos10 ay man congrats give king kisses from me n lmk if i need to beat any homophobes up for u

**Neil Josten** @njos10

@yaboyd kisses delivered and i think andrews got the beating up assholes thing covered but if i need backup youre the first on my list

**Renee :)** @naturewalker

@njos10 @minyard Congratulations, you two. Having pride is a beautiful thing and I send my prayers and best wishes to you. 

**Neil Josten** @njos10 

@naturewalker thanks renee you should come visit sometime

Neil looks at Kevin’s tweet and can’t control the cackle that escapes his mouth. Andrew looks over and huffs out a laugh. Raising an eyebrow, he asks “do you want me to gang up on him with you?” Neil can do nothing but nod. 

**Kevin Day** @queenkevinday

@njos10 @minyard Does this mean that the “Josten-Minyard Rivalry” is over? Thank God. 

**Neil Josten** @njos10

@queenkevinday u wish bitch

**Andrew** @minyard

Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you, Mr. Kevin “It’ll be easier if he remains heterosexual” Day.

Needless to say, Twitter riots. 


	2. healthy minds make sexy bodies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pride month rolls around, and Neil's PR agent pushes her luck a little more.
> 
> It's alright, though. Neil and Andrew have been learning to give ground.

Neil and Andrew get lucky with coming out. They’re not the first gay or bisexual players in the professional Exy leagues by a long shot, what with Sara Alvarez and Laila Dermott’s post-championship-win kiss and Jean and Jeremy’s more muted photographs of them curled together on a beach in Marseille. However, Neil does get some shit because Andrew is, well, he’s Andrew Minyard, the five-foot-tall force of nature with a penchant for stony silences and pulling knives on teammates. Neil doesn’t tolerate any reporter’s bullshit questions that hover around implying that Andrew is an unworthy partner, but it gets tiring.

Their jabs at each other on Twitter, though? Those are something Neil will never get bored of. Andrew infrequently sics his followers on Neil, oftentimes reminding him to grab milk and cat food while he’s at the store or using them to bully Neil into staying home and resting on days after particularly grueling games (Andrew also plies Neil with soft kisses and breakfast in bed, but Twitter doesn’t need to know that).

In response to Andrew’s “bullying,” Neil gets his revenge by way of photographs. It’s not his fault that he’s in a relationship with someone so ridiculously photogenic, and so pictures of Andrew looking positively ethereal while doing everyday things make it onto Neil’s Twitter. Some of his favorites include Andrew bundled up in a scarf and jacket, standing under a streetlight in Grant Park as snowflakes swirl around him. Andrew in an old PSU hoodie, curled up on the couch in a warm shaft of light, blanket loosely slung over his hips, one eye cracked open staring the camera down in a silent challenge to  _ talk shit, I dare you. _

When Andrew announces his transfer to the Cyclones in May, right after the season ends, Neil sees more than a few tweets bemoaning the fact that the two of them won’t be tweeting at each other as much since they’re in closer proximity, but there are more fans excited to see the two of them playing together again. A few years ago at the Olympics, they took home gold thanks to a seemingly psychic bond between Andrew and Neil, and they’ve only gotten closer since then.

Near the end of May, Neil’s PR agent Hannah pulls him and Andrew into a meeting. She’s a bubbly thing, too full of RedBull for a meeting at ten in the morning, and Neil would feel bad for subjecting her to dealing with Andrew in the morning if she wasn’t used to playing damage control after Neil let loose on a reporter. Used to Neil’s preference for no bullshit pleasantries (she’d learned her lesson after encouraging Neil to get involved on Twitter), she gets right to the point. 

“Next month is pride month and the team wants you two to do some coupley things and post about them online.” As Andrew’s stare darkens and Neil raises an eyebrow, she raises her hands in a placating stance. “I know you aren’t into broadcasting your relationship, so I’ve negotiated to the point where you can go as low-key as you want. Just do something. It’ll look good for the team and sponsorship offers, and it’ll be a good act of solidarity with the LGBT community!” 

Andrew crosses his arms. “Are there any things they pitched to you as ideas for what we should do.” Even that statement is a testament to the progress that Andrew’s made over the years. Back at PSU, he would’ve shot down the mere idea before it was fully out of someone’s mouth.

Hannah blanches. Clearly she wasn’t expecting such a lack of resistance on Andrew’s part. “Well, I don’t know how you would feel about doing an Instagram Live Q&A, but they put that out there-”

Neil throws up a hand. “So that’s just a live video where we could be doing whatever and answering questions?”

“Yes, junkie.” Andrew knocks their feet together. “We could just cook dinner and answer some questions.”

Hannah looks absolutely over the moon. “Yeah, that would work great! That format is especially good because you don’t have to answer any questions that you don’t want to, and I know you guys are serious about your privacy. If it gets to be too much, you can just end it. It’s just like an interview, except you get to choose what to answer!”

“So not like an interview at all,” Neil snorts, having been privy to Andrew’s stony silences after reporters got a little  _ too _ personal.

Hannah giggles at that. “Well, yeah. Management wants you to do two or three things, spread out over June, but if you want to do more, feel free. You could also just post some pictures talking about pride if you’re comfortable with that, but again, no pressure.”

After hashing out a few more details, they drive out of Chicago, no destination in mind. Neil curls sideways in the passenger seat, watching the sun turn Andrew’s hair into a fluffy halo, his features thrown into stark relief. Andrew would admonish him for staring, but their drives have become one of the view times that Andrew allows Neil to look as much as he wants. 

Eventually, Neil gets bored tracing patterns onto the back of Andrew’s hand as it rests on the gearshift. He straightens up, cracks his neck, and pokes Andrew in the cheek, getting a side-eyed glare in return. “What changed your mind about doing stuff for pride?”

“It was good PR for you.” Andrew enunciated slowly, his tone for when Neil was being especially stupid.

“Why- oh.” Good publicity for Neil meant that he was likely to receive more sponsorships which directly influenced how much the Moriyamas wanted to kill Neil at any given moment.

“I could do without having to do this, but I’m going to be the one who ends up killing you and I have no intention of letting Ichirou get in my way.” What goes unsaid is the  _ I don’t know what I would do if they killed you, _ the  _ I would do it all over again to keep you safe. _ Neil hears it anyway. Almost a decade of proximity will do that to you.

“Thank you.” 

“I haven’t done shit yet.” Andrew glares at him. “I’m not going to make it easy for any of the fans, don’t get your hopes up.”

“I never expected anything less.”

They decide to do the live video a week into June. Neil texts to double-check with Hannah and gets a thumbs-up emoji in return, so he tweets the night before.

**Neil Josten** @njos10

@minyard and i are gonna go live on instagram tomorrow at 6pm cst and answer some questions and make dinner 

That morning, they decide on making pizza. It’s easy, they both like it, and it gives Andrew something to do with his day. In the past few years, they’ve both had to learn how to cook for themselves and Andrew took a special liking to anything that involved dough. Neil takes a container of sauce out of the freezer and they spend the day lazing around their apartment. Neil goes on a meandering run, coming back with some groceries, and Andrew spends several hours curled up in a cushy armchair, reading as Sir and King nap on his lap. 

At around five-thirty, Andrew gets up and cleans the kitchen. It’s an old habit, keeping the visible parts of his life spotless to give him some privacy, but now it’s something he only does when he’s nervous. As he empties the dish rack, Neil hops up on the counter next to him.

“You don’t have to say anything, you know.” He’s giving Andrew an out, a way to distance himself from an uncomfortable situation. Andrew just gips the handle of the mug he was putting away.

“I am aware,” Andrew grits out, pointedly looking anywhere but Neil.

“Okay.” Neil swings his legs back and forth, then kicks one out to poke at Andrew’s hip. “Hey.” Andrew looks at him. “Yes or no?”

The mug goes into the cabinet with more force than necessary and Andrew moves to stand in between Neil’s legs, which wrap around his waist as Neil leans down to kiss Andrew. His arms loop around the back of Andrew’s neck, holding him close, and Andrew’s hands slide under his shirt, thumbs rubbing circles on his ribs. It’s a cheap shot, to make out with Andrew to distract him from his nerves, but it works and Neil is far from complaining. He has his favorite person in the world pressed flush against him, how could he be unhappy? 

Neil is lost in the sensation of Andrew pressing kisses up the column of his throat when the alarm on his phone goes off. Ten minutes to showtime. Neil pulls away, ruffles his hands through Andrew’s hair in an attempt to make it look somewhat presentable, and wills away the need to drag Andrew into the bedroom. He turns off his alarm as Andrew opens the fridge, pulling out the dough, cheese, and toppings.

Neil positions his phone so that he can read what people ask while also being in frame without showing any other part of their apartment than the kitchen. Right before he turns on the stream, Andrew wraps his arms around Neil’s waist and presses a firm kiss right below his ear. 

“We are not eating while people watch,” he says. Neil nods.

“How about we end it once we get the pizza in the oven?” Andrew grunts in response. Neil goes to turn on the stream but pauses again. “I’m proud of us. This isn’t something we would’ve done a few years ago.”

Andrew sighs and peels himself away from Neil. “Just start the video, you fucking junkie.”

Neil starts the video. Andrew immediately busies himself with getting the pizza ready, stretching the dough out in a way Neil has never been able to do without tearing it or making an amoeba-shaped pie. Neil grabs a cutting board and starts chopping basil, then looks at the viewers of the video. Close to two thousand. Well, there’s nothing he could say that’s worse than his post-game interviews. 

“Okay, this is my first time doing one of these so just ask whatever.” Immediately, questions start pouring in. There are more than a few suggestive questions, along with invasive ones about their lives and things that they legally can’t discuss, so Neil waits until someone asks what they’re making for dinner.

“Andrew’s making pizza.” Immediately, there are follow-up questions. “Oh, Andrew, someone’s asking if pineapple belongs on pizza. Thoughts?” 

Andrew looks up, annoyed. It’s an argument they’ve gotten into time and time again. “Just because you like it doesn’t make it a cardinal sin. You don’t have functioning tastebuds.”

“You’re not doing much better yourself. Alright, next question. Hmm. Favorite colors? I like gray. Andrew?”

“Pantone two six eight five C. Dark indigo.” 

Neil grins. “Careful, you’re going to ruin your bad-boy reputation, telling the masses that your favorite color isn’t black.” Andrew just flicks his flour-dusted fingers at Neil in response. “Oh, that’s a good one. What was it like living with Kevin in college? Absolute hell. He’s less of a morning person than Andrew and we had practice at six every day.” 

Andrew rolls his eyes, grabbing the sauce. “He threw out my ice cream once and I almost killed him, and then he proceeded to do it every two months or so. I don’t miss him.”

One question keeps coming up, so Neil sighs and bites the bullet. “To everyone asking if I’m gay or bi or whatever, I’m not. I only swing for Andrew. Next ques- King, get  _ down. _ ” She’d jumped up onto the counter, nosing at Neil’s phone, so he scoops her up and holds her upside down, cradling her like a baby, ignoring Andrew’s exasperated sigh at their cat’s antics. “This is King. She’s a menace and is completely comfortable being held like this.” At that, King lets out a rumbling purr, her head lolling about. “Hmm, okay. Andrew, what’s your favorite book?”

Andrew looks up. The only thing he’d ever been moderately open about liking was literature and he retold Neil the plots of stories as a way to ground him after nightmares. “Neil Gaiman. American Gods. It’s written in an engaging way and provides an interesting view into the concept of faith and religion. And it’s a glorified road trip to every shitty tourist spot in America with an actually interesting protagonist.” Neither of them mentions that it’s Andrew’s comfort book, read so many times that the title on the spine is almost illegible and the pages are soft and worn, pored over on bad days where existing gets to be too much.

“It’s a good book, I don’t like reading and I finished it in a few days.” Neil swaps King to one arm to push the basil over to Andrew, looking for a few more questions. “Oh, here’s one. What’s the best ice cream flavor? I don’t like sweet things so I assume this one is for Andrew.” 

“Ben and Jerry’s half-baked. Overpriced but worth it. Neil, don’t lie. You like sorbet because you’re a godless heathen.”

“Well you said sorbet doesn’t count as ice cream, and the question was specifically about ice cream. Or is sorbet a valid choice of ice cream now and you’re admitting that you were wrong?” Andrew throws a piece of cheese at him and it lands on King’s belly. “Okay, how about two more. Hmm. Oh. What’s different now that we’re out?” Neil pauses, considering. Everything’s different, nothing’s different. “On a personal level, not much has changed. We’re both private people. In the Exy world, though, Andrew’s been pushing for a more robust nondiscrimination policy, which is probably going to trickle down to collegiate and high school Exy. That’s good, I guess.”

Andrew straightens up from putting the pizza in the oven and snaps his fingers then points to his chest. Sir, the obedient little bastard, jumps up and Andrew catches him, helping him get comfortable perching on one of his shoulders. “I got a degree in criminal justice, I’m going to use my degree. The shit that some contracts have is illegal.”

King paws at Neil’s chest, and he opens his arms to let her down. Andrew leans forward to look at the questions. “Last one. Neil,” he says, perfectly deadpan, eyes bright with amusement that only Neil can see, “what’s it like having me for a boyfriend?”

Neil feels his smile go sharp. “It was great, but we’ve been ex-boyfriends for over two years now.” Andrew sighs. Rolls his eyes. His left cheek dimples with a slight smile, out of view of the camera.

“How many times do I have to tell you. That’s a terrible way of saying that we’re married.”

“You love me.”

“Unfortunately.” Andrew picks up Neil’s phone. “Bye,” he says, and ends the live stream. Neil stops with his reporter-murdering smile and allows himself to be pulled in for a sweet, slow kiss, barely registering the thump Sir makes when he jumps to the floor. 

They stand there, kissing softly, reacquainting themselves with each other, letting their walls drop. Andrew’s hands come to play with Neil’s hair, scratching at his scalp. Neil massages at the tension in Andrew’s shoulders until it melts away and Andrew hooks his hands under Neil’s ass and lifts until Neil’s legs wrap tightly around his waist.

The kiss turns dirty from there. Reassuring hands become hungry, and Neil loses track of himself, lost in  _ Andrew Andrew Andrew _ , pressed against a wall as Andrew sucks hickeys into the base of his throat, tongue laving along the scar on his collarbone until the timer goes off and they break apart. 

The pizza is good, but Andrew’s hands on him later, methodically taking him apart, are even better. Neil might just have to talk to Renee about converting to Christianity.

They curl together in bed, sleepy and sated, and Neil grabs his phone, Andrew pressed against his back, littering kisses on the nape of his neck. 

**Neil Josten** @njos10

thx for showin up to the live. might do another next week

If this is how Andrew gets after they show a part of their life to the world, then Neil’s  _ definitely _ going to do it again. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> !!! hope u liked that,,,,, im projecting onto what i want for my future (aka a husband, two cats, and a functioning oven)
> 
> uhhh catch my undying love for Neil gaiman in there?? no?? cool ig.   
> BUT things that i want to say about this chapter because i have COMMENTARY  
> \- def do the sauce trick (make a bunch of marinara and freeze it so u can defrost it anytime n have good sauce) fuck u I'm not Italian i do what i want  
> \- making out while one person's on a counter? YEP  
> \- my dad introduces my mom as his first wife sometimes (shes his ONLY wife and they're still together after 21 years... :')) so i love that joke lmao
> 
> aight hope yall are having a good Monday (or Tuesday or Wednesday or whatever)!! if u liked it leave some kudos,,, perhaps,,,, or a comment yelling at me because i will yearn right along with u,,,
> 
> aight bye love u go listen to car seat headrest

**Author's Note:**

> whoo thats just chapter 1! hahA i wrote something longer than a chapter what are the fUCking chances
> 
> some things i wanna say abt it: i had a dog that could tell time like that i miss her sm, also fuckin peep Nicky n Renee's twitter handles?? I'm so proud of that shit?? nicky's is self explanatory but renees is me going hA NATalie Renee WALKER that's like nature!! dope as fuck!! and i just wanted to share my moment of absolute GENIUS i cant do geometric proof but i can do THAT
> 
> anyway ig ill get chapter two up in a few days or so? its done i just like the dopamine rush of posting it makes me feel good
> 
> anyways leave a kudo if u liked it leave a comment if u liked it or hated it or whatever I'm going to bed
> 
> scream at me if chapter two isn't up within a week love u bye sleep well


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